Into My Heart
by L-stMemories
Summary: Tasked by the Resistance to uncover the mysterious Phantom Ruby - believed to be the heroes' one and only hope of taking back the world from Eggman - their newest recruit, Buddy, eagerly sets off on his first mission. But when he loses touch with the Resistance in the depths of Mystic Jungle, he finds himself in a dilemma.


**Author's Note**

Hey! It's been a while. I always find myself working on multiple stories at the same time, and for some reason I always make them super-long works…But some short stories are in order. Like this one. The main idea was conceived before the release of Sonic Forces, but not finalised until now.

No adult themes in here. If anything, there is _very_ minor violence in one (maybe two?) particular moment(s) only (very typical Sonic stuff) so I rated it K+.

All characters and settings belong to Sega. Even the Avatar character (as he's the default, I guess). No 'OC do not steal' special treatment for him. Feels bad.

 **Note** : I didn't realise I published this on the first anniversary of Sonic Forces. What a coincidence. ～^_^

* * *

 **INTO MY HEART**

The heavy metal doors slid open, and a red-furred wolf shyly trudged into the top-secret base.

"Welcome to the Resistance."

He raised his head slightly, lips lightly pressed in a containable giddiness. Excited, yet nervous, to save the world in peril. Facing him were a team of stoic warriors and intellectual tacticians, all hardened through the experience of war. And through the tough times in the absence of their hero.

"Is that all you got?" a frank voice said. "That's not a good first impression, rookie."

His head and body jerks up straight, and he nods viciously, being on his best behaviour. He bows apologetically.

"That's better, and no need to apologise," returned the voice. "I'm Knuckles the Echidna. I lead the Resistance. Come and meet the rest of the team."

He tried not to feel too conscious of his self-image as he hastily exchanged with all the other members of this tight-knit group: a pink hedgehog, a white hedgehog; a crocodile, chameleon and bee who seemed to form a trio - the reasons behind which seemed unfathomable; a young fox-boy. He also caught another trio, almost hidden in the far corners of the base, conversing in a confidential manner. It consisted of a black, menacing-looking hedgehog, a curvaceous bat, and a robot with a cumbersome build.

"You're Buddy, aren't you? We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival," said Knuckles.

Buddy tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"Tails, explain the situation, please."

"Will do, Commander." The fox-boy stepped ahead and approached a blank-eyed Buddy, who could think of nothing but of the two floating tails he had, which had only just noticed. "As mentioned earlier, I am Tails. We're immensely glad to have you here."

Another compliment. He wondered how many more they would they would give him before it was all inverted down with the details of the dire situation. He nodded meekly, preparing himself for a flood of bad news.

"Six months ago, Doctor Eggman, after years of silence, finally emerged and defeated our hero, Sonic the Hedgehog. Without him, the world began to fall into chaos and destruction, subservient to Eggman's evil forces."

Already, Buddy was doubting himself. A mortal enemy who has defeated the world's hero and source of perpetual hope does not seem like someone who would be willing to talk it all out, and solve world peace with a handshake. No, this was a figure of war and politics.

"With his limitless greed and psychopathic lust for dominance, he managed to conquer 99.9% of the world. We are but a tiny 0.01%, struggling every day to see another dawn. Our hope dwindles every day as innocent civilians are brutally killed or help captive, later turned against their beliefs and values as Eggman renders them void into enslaved automatons. Most of the fortunate survivors have escaped, and are hiding somewhere, making it impossible get in touch to recruit them."

At this very moment, Buddy's thoughts turned towards his relationships. It didn't strike him that cowering in fear this whole time made him immune to his own emotional pains. His parents were gone: his father when he was almost too young to remember him, and though he did lament a missing parent, at least he had his mother, until the last he saw of her was her screaming at him to run as far away as possible as she stood her ground defiantly fighting against the firepower of a multitude of Eggman's robots. In actuality, that was the second-to-last time he saw her; the true last time he saw his mother was his return to where he had left her, seeing her charred corpse, and realising that he was truly alone, forever. He didn't even bury her like a good, respectful son should. Again, he left her, running away in a flood of tears and despair, until it fully drowned out his emotions, numbing him to the harsh reality, turning him into an introverted and unconfident being.

And he didn't know where his friends were. Everyone was too busy hiding, cowering from the looming tyranny that is to come at doomsday - which is approaching. There was no capacity for even the most shocking of rumours to travel around, and so he heard nothing about his friends. Chances are many of them would be dead, his childhood playmates, almost like brothers and sisters, gone forever. The recall of this was so acute, so sharp, that every frame slashed against his heart to open wounds.

But he didn't even bulge. His emotions were still deeply submerged in a pool of salty and bitter tears, and nothing could harm it. And at least he had the Resistance now.

"Just as we were convinced, out of despair, that it was only ourselves against Eggman's army, we managed to get in touch with you. Yes, perhaps one additional person in the Resistance may be trivial on a global scale, but I know you will make invaluable contributions to justice and salvation."

Buddy was even more confused. Tails was right: he himself won't make a different to the power imbalance between Eggman and the Resistance, let alone do justice and salvation proud, whatever those words meant today anyways.

"After months of research, amidst waves of hope and despair, hope has finally prevailed. We may have discovered our one and only chance of victory against Eggman."

To this, all the pairs of eyes in the room seemed to glow with their sharpened gazes. They were like knives, about to slice open the moment of truth.

"A mysterious source of power was detected in the depths of Mystic Jungle. We believe that it is the Phantom Ruby, a gemstone that has the power to conjure illusions and merge with reality."

Buddy shuddered.

"We are severely outnumbered, and obtaining this is our only hope, the only way for us to get an edge over Eggman. But none of us could leave the base. We all have critical matters to tend to, to help each other stay alive. Just as we thought we were riding on yet another tide of despair, you came into our contact, for which we are truly grateful. We need you to uncover this Phantom Ruby, and bring it back to us."

Buddy could feel himself stepping back, towards the metallic, discreet entrance, to run away like a coward and hide in the danger of the open world. He figured that might be safer. Here he was, being tasked with a mission of which the outcome would be the sole determinant of the world's fate, and regardless of whether he was successful or not, they were using him as disposable labour, worth the sacrifice. So much for the Resistance which he had always wanted to join. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea. The exit, after all, is right there, and he could effortlessly - albeit with eternal shame and cowardice haunting him - just walk out of his newly-given responsibilities.

But, no, he had signed up for a one-way trip, in which the ultimate destination was unknown, but likely a one-way trip to death.

"What's wrong, Buddy?" asked Knuckles. "Don't you want to be a hero?"

Yes, he did.

"Don't you want to save the world?"

Yes, he also did. But both of those things seem so far away and impossible that he had given up before he properly internalised his dreams of being a world-saving hero.

"Listen, rookie," continued the Commander, lowering his voice into a whisper. "If you are successful in this mission - and you have every reason to believe so - you will never have to live in fear again. The world will be peaceful as it has always been - should always have been."

"And we will prepare you will everything you need - all the information and equipment - to ensure your task is a safe one, so you honestly don't have anything to worry about," added Tails. "We hope you can fill up as much as possible the void our hero left in his absence," he said with a tinge of sadness. This wisp of despondence resonated across the base, with the pink hedgehog feeling it the most acutely, heaving a breathy sigh.

Buddy shifted on the spot in discomfort. He was here for less than half-an-hour, and already they were dumping all their expectations onto him. More like their last strings of hope, upon which he now has to control the puppet of fate. He was no Sonic; Sonic was his childhood idol, and he didn't remember ever idolising himself, or his own lack of bravery. They were definitely going to be disappointed, although he might die before he learned how disappointed they would be. Buddy didn't know which was worse.

"Whatever you do," cautioned Tails, suddenly in an ominous tone. "Try to avoid direct contact with the object, as we still don't know nearly enough about it to be certain of its effect on our biology! Use your Wispon to grab hold of it, then store it in _this_ container."

The fox-boy handed him a small, spherical container, just big enough for him to wrap his fingers around it. He attached the container to his tool belt, the weight of which made him feel a bit more confident.

"Hmm," pondered Tails. "Your Wispon looks a bit rusty…"

Rusty from its cowardly disuse, of course. He hadn't launched a single shot from his Wispon, not a single flame spewed from the red-coloured weapon. Not that he needed to; running away sufficed his survival.

"Let's upgrade it -"

"Tails, no, we can't," interrupted Knuckles. "We need to commence this mission right now. There's no time to spare. And regardless of how worn out his Wispon may be, it should still be more than enough to function for this mission."

"True…well, we'll upgrade it when you get back, then."

"Take care, Buddy," said Knuckles. Those fatal words were signals for him to depart for his mission. No rest for the wicked. Not a single bit.

As he reluctantly trudged out, not wanting to leave the safe enclosures of the base, he could hear the bee saying "good luck!" in a sing-song voice. He wondered what everyone would do once he left. Carry on with whatever they were doing? As he subconsciously slowed down his footsteps to process his thoughts, he caught the scary-looking black hedgehog glaring at him from the corner of his eye. He thought he looked quite cool, but when his mouth opened - revealing tiny fangs - he broke into a jog and decided to process his thoughts later.

From nowhere opened a portal just as he picked up his pace, and absentmindedly fell into it without knowing where it took him. Perhaps this was one of Eggman's traps, destined to take him to his end. Except it wasn't; the Resistance had launched it for him to safely arrive at Mystic Jungle. As he travelled through the portal, his Radio buzzed with a familiar voice. It probably belonged to that white hedgehog. He's already forgetting their names and faces…

"Hey! I've launched a portal for you. Keep in touch via your Radio, and keep us updated. When you're done, let us know, and we'll open a return portal from where you called. Good luck, rookie!"

As the voice subsided, a new world opened up to him.

Ancient ruins or an epileptic casino, he didn't know which. A mass pollution of disrespect, among the ancient pillars were artificial strings of lights. They flashed blue, pink, yellow, too blinding against the shadowed backdrop. The spontenaous, natural structures of eons ago were undermined by an erratic pattern of modern dominance, the irradiance stripping the shrouded mysteries of yore. Yet they did not silently succumb to such contemporary disturbance: the vegetation stubbornly resisted and fought back, every day closer to the elongation and constriction of the incongruous gambling structures, trying to reclaim this place for their own while the casino slots kept spinning and spinning erratically.

Just like the Resistance. Just like himself, right here, right now. Trying to reclaim the world from Eggman, a hostile, invasive, unwanted force. He was mean even in the smallest of things, by quietly encouraging the addictive, demerit activity of gambling.

Buddy's reluctant instincts nudged him to step back and fall back into the portal, the former of which he did in his absent mind, but the latter was not realised since the portal had closed during the moments when he was scrutinising the bizarre location. Instead, he fell flat on his bum.

He briefly considered calling the Resistance to send him back, or even to undo all of this and pretend it never happened. But he couldn't just call it quits now; the date of the whole world depended on him for real, and it made him shudder to think that he suddenly had to shoulder this burden, this immeasurable responsibility.

One thing is for certain: there's no going back now. So he got back up and went ahead, into the welcoming embrace of the historical jungle and the deterring tentacles of the casino. The temperature was quite cool and sunk underneath his fur, but the exhilarating visual atmosphere presented by all the slots and devices made him feel uncomfortably warm at the same time. Eggman probably intended for this to happen, distorting the homeostatic regulations of body temperature in all organic lifeforms.

Speaking of organic lifeforms, there were none other than Buddy himself in this lively yet desolate setting. Nobody to talk to, to share his anxieties and his fears.

Except for Eggman's Badniks, of course, though they were nothing close to organic. A few drove up to 'greet' him. He didn't expect this to be a part of the package, but then again he was always too naïve to. As they approached with imminence, he fumbled with his Wispon.

Now, how do you use a Wispon again? He hadn't touched it for months, and only managed to find it after the cumbersome effort of leaving his hiding place somewhere in the wilderness, making it back to his old house in the middle of the night with ninja-like caution (or his chicken-like cowardliness), and spending a significant proportion of his time scavenging through the remains of his family's possessions, where it lay, untouched by all but the dust of time.

But eventually he managed to grip it firmly and it began to spew flames, much to his delight and the monotonous terror of the Badniks. They blew up, and a light shower of flames and metal ensued. And some oil, too, but at least harm's out of the way, so that didn't bother Buddy too much - not even the fact that there were viscous dots of black liquid on his favourite boots.

Well, he was bothered, actually. These boots originally belonged to his father, and he had always longed to grow up, just to fit into the boots. And it was just right, neither too large nor too small. The spiritual part of his thought he could feel his father's comforting presence, even though he had next to no recollection of him.

But now was not the time to lament his footwear - he could have all the time to do that when the war subsided, hopefully sometime soon after he completes his mission. So he proceeded without knowing where he was actually going, crossing his fingers it was the right way. How was he supposed to tell which way was right? Would he go straight, or turn 57 degrees to his left, or maybe 33 degrees to his right? North, east, south, west were all virtually non-existent, rendered completely null by the flashing lights.

As he made his way through the thickets, he couldn't help but notice how Eggman didn't spare a single strand of Mystic Jungle in converting it to a casino. Even the most dense of vegetation had anachronisms attached to it, whether it be flashing lights or glowing bulbs. He broke into a run, trying his best to ignore the blurs of radiance in his vision.

After an eternity of sensory disturbance, Buddy skidded to a halt just before what looked like a waterslide, snaking ominously into the mist ahead. Eggman must be deluded, constructing something so fun in such a twisted manner, an utmost mockery of leisure. There was no leisure now, just war. Buddy figured he would come back when the world's saved to enjoy the waterslide, but he this time he probably took the wrong route. Time to turn back -

Or maybe not, since a horde of Badniks were approaching. He also realised the casino lights no longer glowed yellow, blue or pink, but red. Red for 'intruder alert'.

And there were _so, so many_ of them, big and small, and evil.

Buddy decided that before he was going to die today he would spend some lovely time on Aqua Road, Eggman's very own waterslide. He didn't even take notice of how far the incoming enemies were before he screamishly flopped himself onto the slide, embarking on a journey into nowhere.

But…Badniks chasing him down a waterslide? He would never have conjured up such a scenario. It was fun yet terrifying at the same time. Maybe a bit more of the latter. No, definitely the latter, actually. Buddy figured he wasn't going to have any fun today. Just fear. And it was all too real.

He picked up speed quick, through the shallow, not-so-shallow, steep, steeper and steepest sections. Something bumped his tail; he yelled, thinking it was the Badniks. As if he wasn't going fast enough already, he tried to streamline his body even more, and continued to rocket down the slide. Steep gradient after shallow, and shallow gradient after steep, he rode on a turbulent rollercoaster, taking along with him his beating heart.

The overwhelming friction snapped the hook of the container hinged onto his belt, and was gone in an instant.

Buddy began to panic. His free hand darted for his belt, feeling the bitterness of the aftermath. In doing so, he lost his grip on his Wispon, which was washed ahead with the treacherous flow. The slide branched out into two; the Wispon went to the left. He shifted his body as much as he could to the left, until he saw his beloved weapon of choice reach a discontinued end, tumbling into the vast expanse of mist below the slide along with a waterfall into Hell.

In a critical moment, he pushed his foot onto where the slide had branched off, and twisted his body to the side, and kicked off, driving himself back to the right, back to life. But what did life mean now, without the container and his Wispon? Perhaps it was time to report his inevitable disappointment. All he needed was a portal, and a dismissal from the Resistance, so that he could return to his old life again, everyday praying the war would come to an end. How truly disappointing.

Foreboding the ponderous voice of Knuckles with a gravity of displeasure, Buddy panicked even more. He fumbled with his Radio, which dreadfully slipped out of his grip as well, tumbling into the clouds of mist below the slide.

It wasn't until now that six months of saltwater and teardrops slowly flushed away, leaving his body shrivelled and vulnerable to pain. Emotional pain. So emotional, it almost felt physical. His immunity was gone, and his wounds opened wide to despair.

He was truly alone, with no Resistance to help him. He couldn't even help himself now.

He thought of nothing as he continued to wash down the slide. He didn't hear the raging waters, nor the angry monotony of the Badniks behind him, just an unfulfilling silence. The weak part of him - all of him, in fact - begged for a portal to be waiting for him at the end of this unending nightmare.

But the end of the waterslide greeted him with nothing but a small landing and a cave, leading him further into his unending nightmare.

But there's still hope. Maybe a portal will be waiting in the deepest depths of the dark cave. And the entrance was just small enough for him to crawl in, so he did, and the inside turned out to be quite spacious. He called loudly. His voice travelled far enough to tell him he could stand up comfortably. The Badniks waited outside for him to come out, but he decided he probably never will. He hoped this was an endless tunnel, one which he could walk until he perished.

As he gradually left the entrance towards the lightless areas, it felt like he was slowly closing his eyes, immersing himself in his thoughts. He reflected on this eventful day: his recruitment, his arrival in Mystic Jungle, and his wild escape. He changed a few of the events so as to avoid being crushed by his own disappointment: his recruitment, his arrival in Mystic Jungle, his successful locating of the Phantom Ruby, the end of the war (in whatever way that could happen). The latter parts made him feel warm, a life worth living again. In the distance he could almost see the vermillion glow of the Phantom Ruby, the light of hope.

It wasn't until now did he realise he wasn't dreaming at all. There lay the Phantom Ruby, bathing in a brilliant, otherworldly scientillation of red. The prismatic rock seemed to affirm his desire to escape this reality, and it gravitated towards him, having found a soulmate - and a soul - to keep company. Its magnificent power shredded the fibres of reality - not that it was apparent, as the cave was too dark, and the glow too bright, to see what was left of reality anyways.

A firm pat on the back startled Buddy. He leapt back, yelping.

"'Sup, Buddy, long time no see? How've you been all this time the world's being taken over?" An all-too-familiar voice said.

He turned around to see his best friend, looking right back at him.

But he hadn't seen him for months. He was probably dead. Yet, there he was, as real as he could be.

"Don't worry, I'm real," he grinned, his jackal teeth flashing a hue of red under the illusory light. "And, hey, that's a cool rock you got there!"

Buddy blinked, and blinked again, squeezing the blur of tears out, causing more to swell to his eyes. With every blink the figure in front of him seemed to change, to transform into an image ingrained even more deeply in his desires.

His best friend was gone. In his place was someone who looked much less familiar at first glance, but the connection could not be more heartfelt.

Buddy was effectively staring into a reflection of himself. Though aged, he was still bristling with youth. Except he wore thick-rimmed glasses, just like Buddy used to (before losing it in one of his hurried escapes from the stalking conflict). Maybe he liked books just like him; before the war, Buddy would spend his alone time buried in any book he could find, on the history of the world (which introduced him to past wars, none of which nearly as devastating then this one), on the history of weaponry used in warfare both on a national and individual scale (which prompted him to get hold of a Wispon - the one which he had lost earlier). He enjoyed creative and fictional sources as well, stories which told of heroic adventures and little-known mythologies.

Today was just like one of those adventures, until reality woke him up to a nightmare.

But he could enchant himself back to sleep again, with the power of the glowing red stone.

"Buddy, how are you? I've missed you so much…" the figure said, in a voice uncannily similar to his own. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you and your mother."

That's when he realised the figure he - or, rather, the rock - conjured was none other than his long-lost father. Buddy looked around, to make sure nobody was there to disturb his fantastical dream-come-true, to make sure nothing could stand in his way of escaping the desperate reality forever. And in the security of a private and delusional darkness, he finally opened his mouth, almost choking on his own words.

"Daddy, is that you?"

More shimmering. He asked again. Yet more shimmering. And beside his father another of his memories began to materialise. Buddy knew who it was before the form was finalised - because he was thinking of her, and it was his thoughts being projected in front of him, after all.

He couldn't contain it anymore.

"Mummy!" he cried, and leapt towards her. Surprisingly, he did fall into her embrace. It didn't feel like an illusion at all.

Buddy wondered how long this ecstasy would last. He didn't want it to end. Ever. "Daddy, mummy, I'm scared. I've had enough. I don't want to run, I don't want to fight this losing war anymore. Please, don't leave me…" he whimpered. He was like a child again, no longer putting up an indifferent, speechless exterior in the face of war. It was time it peeled all that away anyways, leaving his palpitating core of emotions exposed.

"We won't. We'll stay with you, for as long as you want, and we'll be with you whenever you want."

"Even if it means _forever_?"

But he didn't need a response anymore. The intense glow of the scarlet crystal - now slowly sinking into his body - told him all he wanted to know. No wonder the Resistance had wanted to lay their hands on this thing.

He thought he had a choice, but now he had none. And that didn't seem like a bad thing.

He didn't choose the Phantom Ruby.

The Phantom Ruby chose him.

 _And now I'm changing._

 _My face is concealed behind the mask that forms on my skin as the magical rock sinks into my heart, becoming a part of me._

 _My voice deepens as the delusional ruby leeches off my conscience, my soul._

 _My heart swells in a mysterious excitement as my emotions decay and my insides rot away into a dark void._

 _But I'm changing._

 _The glowing of my core shroud me in a limelight of red. In the distant depths of my head, I could hear the world's applause, exalting me into the clouds, telling me I am worthy of being a hero._

 _But I block it out. I refuse._

 _I am no longer the shy and idolising self I once was. I won't need the Resistance anymore, and I won't resist my emerging desires and impulses. They will take me to this Doctor Eggman, and I will form an alliance with him. I won't just be able to change reality, I will change it to my desires, and together, our power will be infinite._

 _I am no Sonic, but I am something else. I'll be something much more, if it means I can see my friends again, my father, and mother, for an infinite eternity - the thought of which pleased me beyond measure._

 _I am Infinite._

* * *

 **Author's Endnote**

 _…and I'm (NOT) weak, lol._

I once conjectured that Buddy (the Avatar) was the same character as Infinite, and that there would be a substantial betrayal at some point in Sonic Forces (number one in _Top Ten Anime Betrayals_?). Turns out my fantasies were too bizarre! But I nonetheless wanted to stay true to my initial ideas, so I finished this, kept short on purpose.

Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!


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